


Cable Guy - Sylar fic

by Sylar (FanficbyLee)



Category: Heroes - Fandom
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-05-04
Updated: 2012-05-04
Packaged: 2017-11-05 02:33:16
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,093
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/401487
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FanficbyLee/pseuds/Sylar
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Random murder aka meal.</p>
    </blockquote>





	Cable Guy - Sylar fic

**Author's Note:**

> Random murder aka meal.

Character: Sylar  
Genre: Gen  
Author: [](http://sylar.livejournal.com/profile)[**sylar**](http://sylar.livejournal.com/)  
Fandom: Heroes  
Word count: 1064  
Rating: R - for violence  
Prompts: Meme #2 What is that smell? for [](http://a-muse-meme.livejournal.com/profile)[**a_muse_meme**](http://a-muse-meme.livejournal.com/)  
Notes: Random murder aka meal.

  
I could’ve walked right into the house, burst through the door and taken what I wanted. But where’s the fun in that? Besides I didn’t think that Mrs. Hallifax had ever heard of Sylar, so the entire dramatic entrance would be wasted on her. It also might attract unwanted attention from the neighbors, and I was in the mood for a bit more of a challenge. I wasn’t expecting her to fight back although she might, but I’ve always enjoyed the hell out of pretending to be someone harmless so they let right in.

I thought about grabbing the mailman as he strolled past my hiding place. He was talking on his Blue Tooth with his sack slung over his shoulder while he made every dog in the neighborhood bark. He’d be a good choice. Everyone opens the door for the mailman, but they don’t invite them inside. I needed to get in, and his uniform wouldn’t have fit at all. He was shorter than I was and thinner.

That’s when I spotted the cable van coming down the street. If I was supremely lucky, it would pull up in front of her house, but it parked next door. I could still make it work though. And if the cable guy had a spare uniform in the back of the van, I wouldn’t have to kill him.

I waited until the cable guy was inside of the house before I strolled over from my hiding place. The sun was beating down on my shoulders as I used my telekinesis to pop the lock on the back of the van. It was still cool from the air conditioner, and I hopped inside, shutting the door behind me. I rummaged around, finding a uniform shirt and pants in a side compartment, and unlike the postman, this would fit. My shoes would do, so I left those. At the front of the van, I found a clipboard and under the seat I found a company ID card that had fallen off someone’s shirt. It was old and expired, but at least the guy had dark hair. It looked enough like me to pass.

A quick glance at the real cable guy’s schedule told me that he’d be inside the neighbor’s house for at least half an hour. That was enough time to do what I needed to. Need not want. Want was a part of it of course, but I needed her power like I needed air to breathe. For now at any rate, sooner or later I’d find someone that didn’t need air, and I’d take their power too.

She was watching Oprah, and I could hear every word that Oprah was saying and her live studio audience. The show was about hyperactive children. Hallifax was doing something in the kitchen. I listened while she cracked an egg and stirred it into whatever she was making. The sound of the spoon scraping against the bowl was slow and methodical. I rang the bell and waited, chuckling when Hallifax dropped the spoon, swore and put her TV on pause.

When the door opened, the smell of sugar, chocolate and peanut butter wafted toward me. My stomach growled, but she didn’t hear it. Her dark eyes flickered from my badge, to the van behind me and back to my face. Her expression went from annoyed to confused, and I gave her the big friendly smile that had charmed Sandra Bennet all those months ago.

“Excuse me, ma’am,” I even used a touch of the accent. People like Southern and Texas accents. I don’t know why. I’ve never met a Texan that wasn’t a fucking prick. But it worked. The confusion gave way to an answering smile. Mrs. Hallifax was not a mind reader or an empathy. She had no idea that I was the last person she’d let into her house. “We’re working on your neighbor’s cable, and we wanted to make sure that your signal was coming in clear.”

“It looked OK to me,” she said. There was flour on her cheek and elbow from her baking. My mom would get like that too.

“I’m sure it did, but the signal reduction might not have gotten bad enough for the human eye to see yet. I’ve got my equipment with me.” I nudged a scanner of some sort that was clipped to my tool belt. “If I could just check your wiring, I’ll be out of your way before that next batch of cookies comes out of the oven.”

“You can tell that I’m baking?” she asked with a small laugh and invited me in. “I’ll give you some if you like? I’ve been baking all afternoon.”

“I’d love some.” She got a real smile this time, and I touched my face where she had the flour. “I love cookies.”

“Oh! The DVR is right over here,” she told me, laughing, as she walked over to the small black box near where their cable came into the house. She looked at the bright blue display. “I’ve got ten minutes before the next batch comes out.”

“I’m sure, I’ll be out of here in ten minutes or less, Ma’am.” Her body flew across the room and into the fireplace with a crash. Sending a cascade of family pictures, vases, knickknacks and white lilies to the smooth white tiles that made up the façade of the fireplace. I pinned her in place, keeping her feet off the ground, using more telekinesis to keep her jaw shut tight. “Can’t have you screaming, which is a shame, because I love that part, but I don’t want your neighbor getting nosey. Normally I’d wait to find out what you can do, but I guess, I’ll have to figure it out myself.”

Her blood painted the lilies scarlet, and it pooled on the bricks as I let her body fall to the floor. I left a bloody handprint on the mantel as I got to my feet. I could feel the power, and it was mine to control. I’d find out what it was soon enough. It wasn’t the first time I’d taken a power without knowing what it was.

“Dammit,” I said when the smell of burning sugar came from the kitchen. “I guess I wasn’t as fast as I thought. Hope you don’t mind if I leave the burnt ones behind.” 


End file.
